


Human Again

by BinJLG



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Canon amounts of alcohol use, Christmas, Food, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Reunions, Swearing, canon amounts of alcohol abuse, does this count as a fix it fic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BinJLG/pseuds/BinJLG
Summary: Done for the Hellerupdates Prompt Contest on Twitter for the winner casiswayward!!Prompt: Dean, Bethany (Dean's 14 y/o adoptive daughter), Sam, & Eileen are getting ready for Christmas when Jack pops in with a present: a human Castiel. Will Dean finally make his own confession of love or will he pretend his angel never said goodbye?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Human Again

**Author's Note:**

> If you're casiswayward and you have an AO3 account, PLEASE DM me or smth so I can tag you properly! :)

Dean swore and muttered to himself as he rummaged through one of the Bunker’s numerous storerooms, frustrated beyond anything that he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Their first real Christmas since saving the universe and he couldn’t find the stupid tree ornaments.

“Sammy? What’d you do with that box of Christmas ornaments??” Dean called out, knowing the tiled halls echoed enough to carry his voice out to the library where Sam and Eileen were putting lights on the tree.

Dean knew exactly where they were. He’d put them away himself the year before. He just didn’t _want_ them to be there, which is why he was looking in the wrong spot. He didn’t want to go back in there.

“Pretty sure _you_ put them in the front of the dungeon last year,” Sam’s voice came bouncing down the hallway. Dean could practically hear the eye roll.

“Great,” Dean mumbled as he skulked out of the store room. Maybe he’d stop by the kitchen before heading for the dungeon and pour himself a shot or three of courage. Nowhere near enough to make him forget the last time he was in there – that’d come later after everyone else was nestled snug in their beds – but enough that he could at least get near the door without flinching. He turned down a hallway that would take him to the kitchen. He paused in the doorway for a moment when he saw Beth standing at the counter by the oven humming along to the Christmas music playing over the portable radio on the counter, Miracle sitting at her feet silently begging for scraps of whatever she was making.

They’d found Beth on a vamp hunt 10 months ago. It was their first basic bones case after defeating Chuck. A nest had attacked her family’s farm. They’d found her huddled in the storm cellar of the barn clutching a shotgun with a nasty gash in her leg. She was 14, the youngest of 3. Her parents and siblings didn’t make it. Miracle was the one who heard her cry for help and wouldn’t let them leave until they found her, but Dean was the one who managed to talk her down from her panicked survival mode and convinced her not to shoot at them. He’d been the one to dress her wound to the point where it was safe to move her. They all put themselves down as her contact info at the hospital since she had nowhere to go, but Dean was the only one they ever called. Every step of her recovery, she responded the best to Dean. When they brought her back to the bunker, she’d chosen the room across the hall from Dean’s. When she’d start screaming from night terrors at 3:00 AM, Dean’s voice was the only thing that would calm her down enough to let her semi-conscious form get back to sleep. And when they suggested moving her to Jody’s place so she could be with girls closer to her own age, she only stopped having a panic attack when Dean, who was totally taken off-guard by her reaction, took her hands and assured her she didn’t have to go anywhere if she didn’t want to. Eileen had asked her why she was so attached to Dean in particular when Sam and Dean had been off in Vegas – the first time they’d done their pilgrimage in _years_ – and, after thinking a moment, Beth had responded that he reminded her a lot of her dad. Dean felt old when Eileen first relayed that piece of information back to him. Which, fair. He _was_ old. For a hunter, anyway. But it also made his chest warm in a way he hadn’t felt since Jack left to go run the universe with Amara.

“Whatchya makin?” Dean asked as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Rumaki!” Beth chirped, her black curls bouncing as she turned to look at him. She was her usual bright and bubbly self, and it was beyond Dean how someone who lost their entire family could act so chipper all the time.

“Rue what?” Dean raised his eyebrows before opening the fridge, deciding to forgo the shots idea. He never felt right drinking anything stronger than beer in front of the teen who thought so highly of him. Fortunately, the fridge was full of water bottles and mini bottles of bourbon for cooking. He discreetly pocketed two of them before grabbing a water bottle and closing the fridge.

“Ru-ma-ki!” Beth repeated.

“Room key, got it.”

Beth rolled her brown eyes but her smile still stayed bright.

“They’re water chestnuts dipped in a mix of soy sauce, brown sugar, and ginger and then wrapped in bacon. Mom used to make them for special occasions.” A flash of sadness passed over the girl’s face before she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “They’re supposed to have chicken livers too, but I never liked them. They’re too strong and ruin the bacon.”

Miracle shifted at the word and Dean couldn’t help but grin as he uncapped his water and sipped from it.

“Guess that’s why he looks so hungry.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna give him any. I don’t think soy sauce is good for dogs.”

“Cook him a strip or two of unsauced. Dog as good as him deserves a Christmas treat.

“I’m gonna go try and unearth some more Christmas ornaments,” Dean said casually before walking out, “accidentally” forgetting his water bottle on the kitchen counter. “Try not to start any fires, kiddo.”

He waited until he turned the corner to slip one of the bourbon bottles out of his pocket.

10 minutes, two “shots” of Jack, and one overly long hype talk later, Dean was gripping the handle of the dungeon’s door. He could do this.

“Okay,” he breathed out, turning the handle and heading in.

He didn’t know what he expected when he flicked on the lights, but it wasn’t the musty stillness of every other unused room in the bunker. There was no blood. No black goo. Nothing to prove that the words and images that repeated in Dean’s head night after night actually happened. Nothing except the horrible, gaping absence.

 _I love you_.

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head, unable to stop reliving that moment.

“Cas…”

His own voice sounded weak and far off to his own ears. He wasn’t there. Not really. He was lost in tear-filled blue eyes and in that terrible, heart-breaking smile.

 _Good-bye Dean_.

Dean dug his nails into his palms and forced his eyes open, a nauseous disappointment sweeping through him when the room hadn’t changed. He took in a slow, ragged breath before shoving everything back down and forcing himself to be fine. He could reminisce later while he was drinking himself to sleep.

He found the box quickly. Just as he shuffled it into his arms, he heard Miracle bark and almost dropped it. That dog _never_ barked. Dean frowned in confusion and moved out of the room, hitting the light switch with his elbow and pulling the door shut behind him with his foot.

He could hear excited voices coming from the library, but between Miracle barking and everyone speaking all at once, he couldn’t hear what anyone was saying or who was talking. Maybe Claire or Garth or someone decided to drop by as a surprise Christmas present.

“Alright, what’s all the hubbub about?” Dean grinned as he turned the corner into the library. He stopped cold in the doorway, his eyes locking onto the deep blue ones he had just been trying to shove away from his psyche.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel beamed from in front of the lit Christmas tree where he was surrounded by a crying Sam and Eileen, a thrilled Beth, a proud-looking Jack, and a very clearly excited Miracle crouched in a playing stance.

A rushing sound filled Dean’s ears. A hole tore itself open in the core of his chest. A vice tightened itself around his throat and a cold nausea coiled its way around his stomach. Then, his default function mode took over. He swallowed, squared his shoulders back, and forced the grin back onto his face. If he just acted like everything was fine, it would be.

“’Bout time you got back.”

~*~*~*~*~

Dean winced as the last dregs of the Bacardi 151 sloshed down his throat and into his stomach. Normally when he needed to drink himself into a forgetful sleep he just went for some good ol’ reliable Jack Daniels. But tonight, with Jack bringing Cas back to life as a surprise Christmas present? Tonight the bat was his best friend.

Dean set the empty bottle down on the dungeon floor next to him, not caring as it tipped over and rolled away from him. He blindly reached over for the next bottle, his vision blurry through a cloud of tears and grief.

He didn’t know how he managed it, but he was able to get through the night like nothing had ever happened. Like Cas hadn’t died in front of him again. Like Jack hadn’t abandoned the only family he ever knew to go run the universe. Like Dean hadn’t spent months burying himself in research, spell work, and his own grief and self-loathing trying to find any way to get Cas back only to hit roadblock after roadblock. They’d all acted like nothing had ever changed. The only exception being when Cas took an experimental bite of Beth’s rumaki, prompting Jack to casually mention that Cas was human now.

Dean grimaced and twisted the cap open on the new bottle, glaring down at the open neck. No one had tried to get into _why_ Jack decided to saddle Cas with another expiration date, even though Dean wanted to. He still wanted to know. He couldn’t stop thinking about watching Cas die. It was all he thought about through dinner, dessert, and egg nog. It was still all he could think about. He was going to have to watch Cas die _again_ and he couldn’t handle that.

So after Jack left and everyone went to bed, Dean carefully, quietly grabbed two bottles and slunk off to a room he knew no one would be able to hear him sob or scream himself hoarse. He wanted to yell and take out all his bitter resentment by trashing the place. But when he got there, when he saw the back wall where the portal had opened up, where the black goo had oozed and taken his heart from him, Dean found himself instead drawn to it. He pressed his back to it, slid down, and let himself get lost in his hopelessness.

“Dean?”

Dean shuddered, but didn’t look up. He couldn’t look up. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the dead man walking. Not even when the man let out a disappointed sigh or padded across the room and knelt down in front of him.

“I knew something was wrong,” he heard Cas say, the sadness dripping off every word.

“’m fine,” Dean mumbled. “Go back to bed Cas. You’re human now. You need sleep.”

“Would if I could,” Castiel sighed out, planting himself in front of Dean. “Unfortunately, I can’t. I keep thinking…”

“A dangerous past time.”

Castiel huffed out a laugh and Dean wasn’t totally sure if he got the reference or not.

“What I said,” Castiel went on warily, “the last time… before I… when Billie-”

“Don’t,” Dean pleaded, wincing as it sounded like a warning to his own ears. He took in a deep, shuddery breath and ran an unsteady hand down his face. “If you’re trying to apologize, don’t. Not for that.”

There were a few moments of tense silence before Cas spoke up again, his voice timid and quiet.

“I feel like I should, though,” Castiel sighed, reaching forward and taking the bottle from Dean’s hands. He heard the slosh of liquid and, for a second, was glad he finally had a drinking buddy. “You deserved to be told you’re loved properly. Not as a cowardly, last ditch effort of a dying entity.”

Dean grit his teeth and clenched his fists, not even sure where to start.

“I shouldn’t have put that weight on you,” Cas babbled, his voice cracking with emotion every now and then. “You had enough on your plate. You didn’t need to be burdened with my emotions as well as your own. But I couldn’t think of any other way to save you. Ensuring you lived was the only thing that mattered. It’s the only thing that’s _ever_ mattered, and I-”

“Shut up!” Dean snarled, disgust dripping off every word. “Don’t you _dare_ talk like you don’t fucking matter!! Of course you do! _Of course you fucking matter Cas_!!”

“Dean…”

“Do you have any idea how much I prayed to you after that? How many nights I spent wishing it’d been me instead of you?? I tore this damn place apart from top to bottom looking for a way to bring you back!! I still can’t get to sleep without drinking myself to death over it! So don’t you _dare_ sit there and tell me you or your feelings don’t matter, cause they do!! They matter so much to me, Cas!!”

Dean was breathing heavy, his entire body a raw nerve. He didn’t know when, but he’d looked up at some point and was glaring into the doomed blue eyes he could never get out of his head.

“I tried _everything_ to get you back cause you deserved better than some half-assed ‘don’t do this’ bullshit! You’re the one who deserved to hear it!! I should’ve said it to you every day since I found you living as Emmanuel! But I was too chickenshit cause I didn’t want to fuck up the best thing I’d ever had!”

Dean swallowed and let out a shuddery sob. He couldn’t say who moved first, but the next thing he knew, he and Cas were wrapped around each other.

“How could you think you couldn’t have me you stupid son of a bitch?? You never even asked! If you’d’ve just fucking asked,” Dean sobbed into Cas’s shoulder, the grief of the past year rushing out of him.

“I know. You’re right. I was a fool and a coward,” Dean could hear the strain in Cas’s voice.

“Stop talkin about yourself like that,” Dean hissed out, a hand moving to cradle the back of Castiel’s head. “Give yourself a fucking break every once in a while. Jesus.”

Castiel let out a choked laugh, “I will if you will.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile in spite of himself at that. “You first, angel.”

“I’m not-” Cas shook his head, his tone light.

Dean backed off like he’d been burned, withdrawing back into himself.

“Don’t,” he protested, wiping at his eyes as he settled back against the wall. “I can’t talk about… Not right now.”

“But I’m not,” Cas stated, confusion obvious in his voice. Dean chanced a glance and saw him frowning, his head tilted to the side and his glassy eyes squinting in puzzlement. It was a small comfort to know some things didn’t change about him, angel or not. “Why would my being human bother you so?”

Dean let out another long, shaky sigh, needing to take a moment. He pursed his lips, glancing at and away from Cas, suddenly very ashamed of his own morbidity.

“Cause now I’m gonna have to watch you die again.”

The room was silent again for a long while.

“…Dean, look at me.”

Dean swallowed nervously, but obeyed. Castiel reached forward and framed the hunter’s face with his hands, leaning into him so their foreheads bumped together.

“When Jack pulled me and other angels from the Empty, I _asked_ him to make me human. I couldn’t stand the thought of coming back just to watch you grow old and die. So I decided the best course of action to take was to grow old and die with you.”

“Cas,” Dean started, but Cas gently shushed him.

“This is what I chose, Dean. It’s what I want. I can’t think of anything better than living a full life loving you and then getting to spend eternity with you after we’ve passed.”

“I don’t know. I think neither of us dying would be better than that.”

Castiel laughed, the tears in his eyes dancing.

“If that were an option, I would have considered it.”

“Our kid’s God. We could probably swing something with the ruler of the universe.”

“ _Half_ ruler of the universe,” Castiel rolled his eyes. He moved so he sat next to Dean, their bodies close as their fingers slotted together. God, it felt so _right_. “We would have to persuade Amara as well.”

“I’m sure I could swing something,” Dean half-joked. “Not to brag or anything, but she had a thing for me this one time.”

“Don’t remind me,” Castiel’s reply was dry, but good humored. Dean felt Cas’s free hand reach up to his cheek and he obliged, turning to face the other man.

“This is what I want, Dean,” Cas repeated, his eyes filled with a serene happiness Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen on the ex-angel’s face. “I know it’s going to be messy. I know it’s full of doubt and pain. But I can do all of it and be happy if you’re with me. When I first saw you in Hell, I couldn’t imagine being a human and having to live with all the constant doubt and worry. But you showed me that there’s also joy and purpose in a human life. You changed me for the better, because you are, without a doubt, the best this world has to offer.

“I love you,” Cas smiled affectionately up at Dean, tears in his eyes. It wasn’t like last time, though. There wasn’t an urgency. Neither’s head was on the chopping block. There were no deals, nothing was coming to get them and take them away from each other. And Dean was ready this time.

“I love you too, Cas,” Dean muttered, a weight lifting off his chest. They moved together, and, as their lips connected for the first time but definitely not the last, Dean knew Cas made the right choice.


End file.
